Carry On
by Lanie McCoy
Summary: Sometimes in the midst of what we desire, we forget what we are, and what that entails. Kurama learns a new lesson about Hiei and it isn't going to brighten his day. Warning: depressing.


**Disclaimer: Saturdays are the greatest, ne?**

_Carry On_

I really was shocked by him.

Though, perhaps I shouldn't have been.

Youkai who know of the great expeditions—and I'm not talking just about thieving—of Youko Kurama, they know he had a reputation for using lovers and throwing them away when he tired of them. And he did tire of them, some quicker than others. He would make them feel wanted, even needed—then, when the time was right, and it was right whenever he so desired, he would just…leave.

No long, drawn out goodbyes. No teary apologies. Not even a little "I'll miss you." Not a shred of regret.

The steps were simple, easy to follow, and planned out in advance, for they could be used again and again and a formula could be created. Choose a target. Seduce. Sex. Use. Abandon. Choose a new target. Seduce. Sex. Use. Abandon. Over and over, it played out again, one victim after another. Some hated him afterwards.

Some wanted him dead, wanted to hang his glittering silver hide on their wall. Some just moved on and sought out another potential mate. Most, however, most never quite got over him. Most wanted him to find them, seduce them again, have more sex, let him use them, watch him leave. Most were masochists that way.

But did he care? Even once? No, of course not. That would be weak.

I should know. I'm him.

But this is not the purpose of my tale.

Who is this "him" I refer to? No, it is not Youko Kurama. That would be arrogant.

"Him," or perhaps I should say "he," was a friend of mine, once, long ago. A dear friend. A youkai, powerful and dedicated in his own right, willing to go to tremendous lengths to achieve his goals. What I loved about him most, I think, though, was his heart.

A black, shriveled thing in the depths of his chest, this heart of his beat soundly to only a select few. But when it did echo in the chambers of his very soul, oh, it was a beautiful sound. Warm and soft and kind and—I am distracting myself now, remembering the days of old. How it used to be. How his heart was a wondrous thing, and I so loved it…

Ah, yes. Those people who it beat for. There were four. One was his dear sister. One was his respected rival-friend. One was his fronted "enemy." One was me.

Or so I used to think.

Not just that it beat for me—I did used to think that, but it is not the only way I was wrong. I was wrong in thinking his heart beat for anyone but his precious kin. And even then, even her, it did not always.

But I would forget, often. I would forget he was not human, he was not one of us, really. He fought by our sides—he fought by my side more times that I can count, and I am forever grateful to him. We protected each other, and watched each other's backs. But he was not fighting for me. He was not fighting for his respected rival-friend, or his fronted "enemy," or even his dear sister. He fought for no one but himself, and through that, he used me. He used all of us.

He has ascended the crystal staircase now, to the highest plateaus of the world in which he lives; a ruler of the land.

One would think that I, the great Youko Kurama, would know of such things as using others, such things as discarding those who have been fully taken advantage of. I would know it was coming, eventually, and I would not be hurt, or surprised, and especially not shocked.

Yet things happen all the time, all over the world—all over every world, really, and we cannot expect or predict all of these things. We cannot see them in the future, and we cannot prevent them, and we cannot shield ourselves against a tormenting plague which has not yet arrived.

And even if we could, I know I would not want that.

Not because surprise is the basis of one of man's most predictable forces—curiosity. Not because a life which I have already memorized the script to is a boring one. Not because I wish to be in control of my own life.

No, not for these reasons. But because, if I were to try to prevent sorrow in my own life by reading the future, and found those potential sorrows to be caused by another, then stopping them would mean affecting another's life, as well. And it would not be affecting this other by a chain of natural events, things meant to be. No, it would be by seeing the possible results and choosing the one best suited to my own needs, affecting my own life and the life of another.

And that is cheating.

Controlling my own life is one task, one which I have sought to master since the day I was born. Controlling another's, well, that is not fair.

And however much I may desire to control his life, I know I cannot, should not, and I do not try.

But he has shocked me in such a way, I cannot forget…

How? How could he shock me in this way? What could he have done?

He left.

Yes, I rant and rave and sink into shocked despair because he…left.

And this is what I should have known.

He, my dearest friend, my precious youkai, is…a youkai. It is his nature to be wild and free, somewhere where he can be who he wants to be, who he needs to be, who nature dictates he be. Ascending that crystal staircase, ruling over his lands, that ties him down enough as it is; almost too much, really, but he cannot leave it. He is…addicted.

He is addicted to power as I am addicted to him.

And addictions, they can be broken. He could no longer be addicted to power if he tried, for he is strong. But…some obsessions…such as mine with him, those—they cannot be taken away so easily.

Perhaps his draw to power is like mine to him, and cannot be destroyed. I don't know. I don't know him well enough to tell something like that. I thought I did, once, long ago. When I thought I knew for whom his heart beat.

When I thought I knew anything about him.

Now, I barely think I know the color of his eyes. Last I saw, they were red…blood red, a beautiful thing… Now, though, I'm not certain. Are they black? Or maybe grey? I don't know.

I haven't seen him in ages, it seems, though he left only last week. I have been pining since then, because I am weak, and people have begun to notice.

People have begun to question.

People have begun to question, and I have no answer.

What would I say? My youkai lover—we were lovers, for a short while, and it was fulfilling to my very soul—he has left me for the likes of Hell?

They would think me crazy.

And they would not know how right they were.

But back to the beginning…I was shocked by him and his leaving.

As I've said, I shouldn't have been. He is a youkai, after all, meant to wander free and answer his every whim. I would be only a burden to him. I would feel guilty, taking away all that he has a right to, all the joys and freedoms his life allows, but the guilt would not last long. I would see what I was getting from our relationship, and I would be content with myself. Perhaps for awhile I would think of him, but I am Youko Kurama, and it would pass.

But that is not what I am thinking now, and as someone unable to see into the future, I am living in the present, and the past, and I am sad. For myself.

I tell myself, "There is no 'us,' because he cares for no one but himself."

We fight together, covering each other's backs; we kill together, both carrying that guilt on our consciences; we protect each other, making sure we will each live to see tomorrow. We have no ties to one another.

We are not devoted, for we feel no love.

We are not bound together, for we feel no loyalties.

We are not partners, for he has ascended his crystal staircase and I am stuck in the slums of the real world.

We are not friends, for we feel no emotion.

He feels nothing, and I do not know what he is.

I feel pain, and I know I am alive.

And I will watch him from the sidelines as he conquers the prize atop the crystal stairs and he will forget me, and I will not remind him. And he will go on to greater and stronger things and I will wish I had something better in life than just another day, and he will not care.

But the days will flow together, and one will follow the next. I will wake tomorrow to the same things I woke for today.

Life will move in a steady stream.

Carry on.


End file.
